


Some Other World

by psilostashya



Category: FernGully: The Last Rainforest (1992), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Sander Sides AU, Warnings May Change, but i guess we'll see, ferngully is a good movie and i think it could make a good au, this is really cheesy and a little cringey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 17:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17749985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psilostashya/pseuds/psilostashya
Summary: Virgil, a sprite, had accidentally shrunk Roman, a human-- and now they both have to deal with it.





	1. Chapter 1

“Our world was much larger then. The forest went on forever. We tree spirits nurtured the harmony of all living things, but our closest friends-- were humans.  
  
“Then, as sometimes happens, the balance of nature shifted, and Deceit. . .the very spirit of destruction. . .rose up from the bowels of the earth. . .and rained down his poison. The forest was nearly destroyed. Many lives were lost, and the humans fled in fear, never to return. Most think they didn't survive.  
  
“It was only by calling up the magical powers of nature. . .that I was able to trap Deceit inside an enchanted tree. . .and save FernGully.  
  
“Which is why it is so important for you to learn to use these powers. I won't be around forever, and you'll have to. . .” the tree sprite cut himself off, eyes falling on his apprentice, “Virgil?”

 

The fairy in question jolted, snapping his gaze away from nothing-- ending his daydream, “Yes.”

 

The old man gave a slight nod, closing his eyes as he went on, “That is why it is so important for you to learn the secrets of. . .” he frowned when he opened his eyes, finding Virgil, once again staring off and not paying attention, “Virgil!”

 

He flinched again, “Thomas, yes. The secrets.” he shrugged, fingers prodding and toying with the mushroom he sat on, “I know. But, I mean, it's all right now. That was so long ago, and you trapped him in that tree and everything, so. . .” Virgil hopped up off of his seat, shifting from foot to foot in front of the other, “I really have to go now,” he said with a sheepish smile. Thomas’ mouth worked but Virgil went on, “but I'll see you later, okay? Bye!” not waiting for an answer, his wings buzzed and he flew out of the tree hollow, not looking back.

 

Virgil's body took a bright, luminescent purple glow as he flew. Weaving through trees and overgrown plants; passing pará rubbers, bougainvilleas, and bromeliads.

 

He tried not to think too much about the things Thomas had said. He knew the things he had said were true; and that eventually Virgil would be looked upon for guidance: as the leader of FernGully. He was less than ecstatic about the whole ordeal, to say the least.

 

Thomas was a very powerful sprite, able to grow an entire grove of swietenia with the flick of his wrist. While Virgil could barely help an orchid bloom. It boggled his mind why the forest elder had chosen him as his heir. There was much more fairies in the jungle that could suffice, surely. But no, Thomas had hand picked Virgil specifically, took him under his wing and tried to show him the wonders of what hid beneath the canopy, (not that the training was going well; in a sense that Virgil was actually useful in magic.)

 

A buzz and a bright green light whizzed through the air, clipping a leaf on its way before stopping right beside Virgil, “Hey!”

 

“Remy.” he smiled as a greeting.

 

“You know,” Remy sighed before going to move, about to lean on the other dramatically, “you're starting to spend more time with Thomas than you do with me.”

 

Virgil side stepped his friend in the air, making Remy topple over-- though his wings righted him quickly.

 

“Well, what can I learn from you?” he winked before flying off.

 

“Hey!” Remy shouted before chasing after him.

 

As they raced, rushing past greenery and wildlife, Virgil couldn't help but feel grateful for the distraction. His closest friend was always good at that, but that was mostly because Remy blatantly told Virgil the things he worried about, (being unworthy of his inevitable title, and being an inferior fairy compared to others,) was dumb-- and boring. Though that sounded a tad cruel out of context, Virgil knew that Remy cared: and during a heart to heart the two had shared once, he had even told him as much. He had told Virgil that he was very important and special to him, that he knew Virgil had unlimited potential-- and could do anything that he set his mind to.

 

Remy was, more or less, Virgil's rock-- someone he depended on, and a great shoulder to lean on. That being said, he knew he could always count on the other.

 

But even with that, Virgil found himself envying his friend. Because it seemed that even Remy was better at magic than him. His friend putting in little to no effort in staying ahead of Virgil as they flew, while Virgil was pushing himself to his full extent.

 

It wasn't until Remy came to an abrupt stop did Virgil finally pass him. He looked over his shoulder, down at his friend with a self satisfied smile, heading higher and higher up through the air.

 

“Virgil!” Remy yelled up after him, going unheard, “Virgil, stop!”

 

Virgil couldn't hear his friend as he flew, picking up speed while brushing past twigs and leaves. He kept going, higher and faster, nothing but a purple dot zooming by, not focused on anything but how fast and far he was going.

 

Already well past the understory, he didn't stop, breaching the main canopy. Still going, Remy's shouts still deaf to his ears, he made a small rupture through the last leaves, flying above the emergent layer.

 

Virgil hissed through his teeth, stuttering in the air and halting all movement, with his arm he shielded his eyes from harsh sunlight. He blinked through it, adjusting to the brightness before letting his arm drop. No sooner than his arm dropped did his jaw. He gasped at the view, turning his head every which way so he could drink in everything he saw: bright blue skies, littered with puffy white clouds, the green tops of the trees that reached up for mother sun-- drinking the light to grow even closer to those puffy clouds. But just beyond the hundreds on hundreds of trees was a jagged mass of rocks-- reaching even higher and prouder than the tallest trees.

 

Virgil narrowed his eyes and scrunched up his nose as he leaned forward, looking over at the black, inky substance that flooded the air from the trees up. It reminded him of the clouds, but in a much more menacing way, something that filled him with an unknown feeling of dread.

 

“Virgil!”

 

Virgil rolled his eyes and ignored his friend, still intent on taking in his surroundings.

 

“Virgil!” he heard Remy call him again, sounding closer and more desperate.

 

“Yeah, hold on!” he darted his eyes back to the black clouds, “Just a moment!”

 

“Virgil, come back!”

 

He huffed and looked down, though he couldn't see the other through the thick leaves, “I said--”

 

Virgil stopped his complaining, interrupted by the squawk of a wedge-tailed eagle. He froze as the shadow of said bird fell over him, shrinking as the predator got closer. Virgil's head snapped up, getting a glimpse of the eagle before he dove back through the canopy.

 

He flew with all his might, trying to shake the bird, only to be filled with dread when he heard it continue to caw after him.

 

A hand reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking him away from its line of sight and pulling him against a firm chest.

 

Virgil gasped, watching the eagle while it kept flying by. He sighed in relief, slumping against his saviour.

 

Remy pulled back, holding him in arms length, “Are you crazy?” he scolded, “You could of been killed!”

 

He couldn't of agreed more-- but those thoughts got shoved to the back of his mind, images of what he saw just above the trees flashing before his eyes. Virgil's wings worked, distancing himself from Remy in a quick beat, “I've gotta-- I've gotta tell Thomas!” he exclaimed before turning around and dashing off in a flare of purple light.

 

“Tell Thomas what?” Remy questioned, “Hey, wait!” he reached his arm out as if to grab the other, but he was already out of sight. “What-- what'd you see. . .up there?” he tilted his chin up, eyeing the sky he couldn't see, as if to answer his own question.

  


彡✧

  


Virgil rushed to where he knew his mentor would be, beyond a small stream and through a weeping tree, where a plot of land-- littered with blooming wildflowers hid. Purples, pinks and blues that didn't need much light, only the bit that cascaded through the brush of green, the same green that shielded their petals from harsh rain.

 

a drop of leftover morning dew fell from the tip of a pitcher plant, plopping itself right on Virgil's head with a soft splat. He swore silently, wiping the wetness away with the crook of his elbow.

 

“Thomas?” he drawled, rubbing water off his cheek with the back of his hand, “Thomas.”

 

Virgil gently landed on the petal of a flower, walking across them like stepping stones, “Oh, Thomas,” he stopped in front of a large mound of bougainvilleas, “I just saw the most incredible thing-” he pointed up towards the sky- “above the canopy. A whole other world,” he conceded, voice full of wonder, (yet worry.) “The sky went on forever. And waaay over in the distance as far as I could see, there was this enormous rock like a. . .” he made motions with his hands to map it out.

 

“Mountain.” Thomas answered for him, head poking out of the bundle of pink flowers that matched his gown, “That was Mount Warning.”

 

Virgil nodded, taking mental note of what he just learned, “And next to it was a. . .a. . .” he threw his hands up, “I don't know. It looked like a strange black cloud rising out of the earth.”  
  
“Smoke,” the other said simply, “I should think.”  
  
“What's smoke?”  
  
“Oh, there are many things in our world you don't yet know about, Virgil.” Thomas went on, flying just over to a rotting tree stump, “There are worlds within worlds, Virgil.”

 

Virgil swallowed. His wings buzzed as he carefully followed the elder.  
  
“Everything in our world is connected by the delicate strands of the web of life, which is balanced between forces of destruction. . .” he motioned to the dead husk of wood, “and the magic forces of creation.” he pulled a tiny seed out from the folds of his flower petal dress.

 

Virgil watched in wonder while Thomas sat the seed on top of the moldy stump.  
  
He almost yelped when his teacher grabbed his wrist, pressing the palm of Virgil's hand to the unborn plant. Virgil furrowed his brows and blinked up at the wise man in confusion.

 

“Help it grow.” Thomas encouraged, sending a shock of magic through their joined hands to get him started.

 

Virgil pursed his lips as soon as Thomas pulled away. He held the seed still, pressed between rotting wood and the soft flesh of his hand. He breathed through his nose, scrunching up his nose and shoulders while he put all his magic and effort into making the seed sprout and take root.

 

With his eyes squeezed shut he didn't see the vines that penetrated through the small shell, the greenery that came from his magic, or the wide eyes and awed look on Thomas’ face.

 

Feeling the strain and exhaustion hit him, Virgil let out the breath he was holding in, his grip going nonexistent on the seed. And just like that, everything that had began growing shot back inside the seed in a flash-- shaking the wiggling stump with the force of it.

 

Virgil frowned, opening his eyes and looking at all the plant life around him, before gazing at his hands, “Why can't I do it?”

 

Thomas didn't answer, he instead held out his arm, giving a small wave of his own hand-- making the seed split in two, a rush of roots and vines pouring out and encasing the stump whole. Little buds of life sprouting and taking root on the damp bark.  
  
“Everyone can call on the magic powers of the web of life.” Thomas told him with a smile, “You have to find it in yourself.”

 

“I want to, Thomas.” Virgil conceded, shoulders drooping, “You know I do.”

 

The elder nodded, turning and tending to a small durian tree.

 

“But. . .” Virgil turned and gazed back up at the canopy, “I. . .I was thinking-- about that smoke?”

 

Thomas stopped his movements.

 

“Do you think it could be. . .” he gulped, “ _Deceit?_ ”

 

“No,” he responded quickly, “there isn't a force in nature that could release him, and there are no poisons here on which he can feed.” he looked at Virgil pointedly, “Deceit is trapped for all time.” Thomas said this with no room for argue or question.

 

Virgil could only nod, head bowed while tugging on his breynia ironstone cloak.

 

Thomas sighed, “Now that's enough for today.”

 

“But what could have caused the smoke?” he wondered aloud, imploring Thomas for an explanation.  
  
He shook his head while waving the young sprite away, “Now, now, now, off with you.”  
  
“But, Thomas. . .” he drifted off, said fairy already floating away, “. . .Deceit.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just think fergully is a really good movie, and has good au potential


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil might have made a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was really rushed for no reason other than i want to get to the prinxiety, (even tho the origibal sorce barely has any shippy stuff) so m sorry if it's bad ;-;

“So what did the Tom have to say, huh?” Remy asked, a tilt to his lip even while shaking flowers out of his panpipe-- which Virgil had just shoved in it.

  
  
Virgil leaned his hip against a tree trunk, arms crossed, “He said I should get serious.” 

  
Remy nodded, “'Bout time.” 

  
“Oh,” he pretended to remember something, pointing an accusing finger at the other, “and he said to stop hanging around with bug-brained layabouts like you.”

 

“You wound me.”

 

Virgil smirked, shaking his head fondly. Their little chat was cut short however, a loud chorus of ‘Oh, no! Oh!’ and the sound of twigs that snapped just by them catching their attention.

  
They watched as what appeared to be some bird fell from the air, taking leaves and twigs with it as it plummeted towards the forest floor. 

  
Without thinking, Virgil dived off of the branch he stood on, rushing after the falling animal.

  
  
“Where you goin'? Virgil!” Remy called, chasing after him in a flash.

  
  
Virgil quickly caught up to the animal, taking quick note that it was an owl. He barely had any time to question why the owlet-- something that was nocturnal-- was thrashing its wings wildly as it seemed to have running away from something. All he had time to do was cut it off-- blocking it's line of flight as it flapped its wings uncoordinatedly, “Hello?” he asked it hesitantly. 

  
He only got muffled yelling and a dazed look in response. It really didn't take long for him to figure out, (at least one of the reasons,) why it was acting the way it was-- blinded by the sunlight.

 

It wasn't until the bird brought its talons up, ready to protect itself did Virgil throw up his hands-- magic shooting from his fingertips while he shouted: “Bless your heart with magic light.” he chanted as if on autopilot, “I give the gift of fairy sight.”

  
The owl jerked its claws back, eyes dilating, pupils growing before shrinking to a reasonable size. The color shifted, from a reddish brown, to a crystal blue. 

  
It blinked, sighing as its vision focussed on the fairy in front of it, “Oh, what a very peculiarly little insect.”

  
  
“I did it.” Virgil gasped in astonishment, gaze going to his hands, “I did it!

  
  
“Oh!” The owlet chirped, “Gravity works.” he said this just before his wings stopped flapping, making him fall the last few yards to the ground with an audible _thump._

  
Virgil moved his hands from his face, watching the bird slowly get smaller as it continued to fall. He trailed behind him, albeit more gracefully. His bare feet touched soft soil before his knees did, taking a seat next to the owl, (which appeared to be unconscious.)

 

Other sprites had gathered round, taking seats on top toadstools, flowers, and branches instead of getting too close. Remy and Virgil's father were the only ones to get as near as Virgil was.

 

The fairy on the ground looked up at Remy, something short of a grimace on his face, “Do you think the spell backfired?” he faced the bird in question, “I didn't. . .I didn't kill him, did I?”

  
“Oh!” as if on cue, the owlet-nightjar sat boltright, “Primary testing laboratory. No! Pass the probe.” he rambled, his now perfectly clear eyes seeing not at the fairies, but through them, “Graduate students, all gather forward. No!” he flapped his wings, kicking up dust as he stood up on shaky legs.

 

He blinked, eyes finally focusing for good, sweeping over what was in front of him. He quickly turned his head to an eighty degree angle, coming  face to face with Remy.  
  
“Love the haircut.”   
  
The owlet screamed.   
  
“It's all right.” Patton, Virgil's father jumped forward; a kind man with curly, strawberry blond hair, and large broad shoulders for a sprite. “We won't hurt you.” he tried to soothe.   


 

He seemed to have calmed down sufficiently, allowing Virgil's dad to card his fingers through feathers.

 

  
Virgil turned his head to Remy, “He's still a little confused.” he mumbled.   
  
“Clearly.”   
  
The bird righted himself, brushed himself off and quickly preened a wing before straightening his back, “Salutations, I am a nocturnal placental flying bird. A member of the family of Aegotheles cristatusor.” he swept his eyes over them, “If you could not tell, I am an owl.

 

“Yes, I am.” he nodded to himself, “And they used to call me ‘Logan,’ Logan Berry.”

  
The colony of fairies erupted into polite greetings, ‘pleased to meet you,’ ‘bonjour.’ and 'how do you do.’s 

  
“And where are you from?” Patton asked curiously. 

  
Logan twisted his head to look at him, a passive look on his face, appearing much more distinguished than he did just a moment ago, “I had just escaped from a biology lab.   


“Where I have seen, and experienced things that are unimaginable to beings such as yourselves.” his neutral resting face twisted to something uncomfortable, “I have been electrocuted, infected and injected. Vivisectified-- and fed pesticide.” he spat in disgust.

 

the tiny beings whispered amongst themselves, some talking in fear, others with a roll of their eyes.

 

“They used me for their most heinous of experiments,” Logan went on, “Battered and bruised me. Took red wires, green wires-- stuck them right through me.” he stuck his neck out and made sure to make eye contact with all of them, before firmly landing on Virgil.

  
“So bare with me and exercise a little prudence. When dealing with. . .” he narrowed his eyes and scrunched up his beak, “ _humans_.”

 

Virgil's eyes widened.

 

Humans? As in real live humans that Virgil had only ever heard of in stories? (Mostly from Thomas.) The thought that there were really some, out there in the world-- terrified him. But at the same time gave him a bubbly feeling of excitement and intrigue.

 

Humans, from what he'd heard, were powerful and caring creatures, friends to all fairies. And maybe. . .they knew something about the black cl-- the _smoke._ It couldn't of been a coincidence, smoke showing up the same time humans do. If anyone had answers, it would be a human, clearly, Virgil thought to himself.

 

“Humans?” Virgil asked, leaning towards Logan, not bothering to hide the shake in his voice.

 

“Where?” he shouted, wings flying over his head while he curled up into a fetal position.

  
“N-N-N-No!” Virgil anxiously waved his hands. 

  
“Get away! Put the scalpel down!”

  
  
“No, no, there are no humans here.” he tried his best at soothing the other, not nearly as good at it as his dad. 

  
“They're long gone.” a fairy in the crowd called out. 

  
“Vanished.”

  
“Definitely extinct.”

  
  
Patton giggled, “They only exist in stories.” he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

  
  
Virgil's hopefulness dwindled, his lips turning into a frown.   


 

“Yes, well.” Logan straightened himself up again, looking a tad embarrassed by his uncontrollable outburst, “I thank you for your hospitality.” he extended his wings so he could give a small bow. He then turned around swiftly, walking in the opposite direction of where the sprites sat.

  
“Oh, Father,” Virgil murmured, tugging on his arm, “do you think it's possible?” he quired with pinched brows, “Could humans still exist?”

  
  
“Now, Virgil.” Patton laughed, clasping his hand over his son's, “Don't you think you're a little old to believe in human tales?” he was saying this affectionately, teasing really, but it still made Virgil close in on himself a little. 

  
“Human tails?” Logan asked, stopping midwalk, “Humans don't have tails. They have big, big bottoms that they wear with bad shorts.

 

“They walk around going, ‘Give me some tea, sis!’,” he shrugged his feathers, “or something like that.”

  
Virgil eyed him for a beat, before glancing at his father, who was now preoccupied with some of the elders. He gnawed his lip, darting his eyes around the others to make sure no one was watching before he took off after Logan. 

  
“Did you really see humans?” he stage whispered, walking along the leaf covered dirt with the owl, “Were they at Mount Warning?” he inquired, remembering where he originally saw the smoke rise up from. 

  
Logan visibly bristled, “Masses of Homo sapiens.”

  
  
Virgil didn't need to hear anymore, and before he could second guess himself he took flight, flying in the direction he knew the mountain was.   


He only passed a handful of fig trees before the owl's wings could be heard flapping behind him. “Hold on there.” Logan said, coming up next to him, “Where are you going?”

  
  
Virgil didn't answer, he knew that if he said his destination out loud he would talk himself out of it. He needed to keep his eyes trained ahead, with only one thing on his mind: answers.

 

Why was there smoke rising out of the earth? Why were the humans just now returning? And if they were as remarkable as the stories said they were, why did Logan say all of those horrible things about them?

 

“Yes, this territory,” Logan piped up, “looks kind of familiar.”

  
The fairy pressed his lips in a thin line, refusing to speak. What was 'pesticide’? why did Logan have to drink it-- would Virgil have to as well, upon meeting them? What about wires-- what were wires anyway.

 

“You know, it is a wonderful day in the canopy.” the owlet went on, bringing Virgil back from his thoughts. “Truly a magnificent sight to behold.”

 

Silence.

 

Logan sighed, “I do believe I never got your name.”

 

Virgil breathed through his nose harshly, it being clear that the other wasn't going to leave him be, “Virgil.” he said simply, still not sparing him a glance.

  
Logan hummed in affirmation, “Alright, Virgil. And where do you think you're going?” 

  
“Mount Warning.” he said through clenched teeth, hoping beyond anything that his wings wouldn't betray him and turn his body around.

 

Logan's own wings stuttered, making him nearly crash. “Ah, I see.” he paused his flying, “I do know where I am.” with a powerful push of his wings he shot forward, right up and next to the fairy. “You know, you almost gave me a fright right there.” he said, “Because for just a moment I thought you said that you were going to Mount Warning.”

 

Virgil huffed, twisting his body so he was floating just below Logan, hands on his hips as he looked him in the eyes, “Well, that's because I did.”

  
  
“But there are humans on Mount Warning!” he exclaimed in exasperation 

  
“Exactly.” Virgil chided, booping the tip of Logan's beak before zooming off ahead of him. 

  
That time the owl almost really did run head first into a tree, shaking himself off and hurrying after the sprite again, “Mount Warning is the last place in the world a little insect like you should want to go.

  
  
“Look at these,” he gestured to the scars across his face, pink angry lines where feathers didn't grow, “do you think nature did this?” he asked rhetorically, “No. Humans did this.” the bird scolded him as if they've known each other longer than a few short minutes. 

  
“We should stay here.” Logan pled, (or at least Virgil assumed he did, unable to truly tell by his monotone voice.) “It's nice here.” he flew over to Virgil's other side, “You got a great set of wings. How about we just flutter for a while.” 

  
Virgil shook his head roughly, clearing it from those words that sounded so convincing to his ears. It was too late to turn back now, he reasoned with himself, the end of the tree line coming up fast.

 

He only stopped when the sound of Logan's flapping wings did too. He turned to find said owl resting on a branch, hunched in on himself and visibly shaking.

 

“Logan?” Virgil uttered, hovering towards him slowly. “Logan,” he tried again, standing right next to the bundle of quivering feathers. “are you. . .not coming?” he tilted his head to the side, trying to get a look at his face.

 

He honestly couldn't tell whether or not he wanted the company. Frankly, he was afraid to go alone-- but on the other hand. . .he wasn't sure if his new acquaintance made the best companion, (especially for the situation at hand.)

  
  
“No, no, no, no.” he started, “I should accompany you; it's only right; seeing as you did give me the ability to see in the daylight.” he stuttered as he tried to breathe, “It would be wrong of me to just leave you when we've already come this far. Truly I,” he went on with his hurried rambles, talking on and on, but not saying anything in actuality.

  
  
“Maybe. . .” Virgil said carefully, “you should wait here for me.” 

  
Logan's tangent came to an abrupt stop. He nodded his head fiercely as he spoke, “This is a fabulous idea. I really think we should go with that. 

  
“Only--” he held his wing out in front of the sprite, trying to keep him from leaving, “why don't you stay here with me?” 

  
Virgil shook his head despite his smile, “It's okay, really.” he flew over the other's wing, “I'll be right back.” he stood on the edge of the branch, facing the owl, “Promise.” 

  
Logan looked over Virgil's shoulder, out at the barren plains, “Why do I not believe you?” 

  
Instead of answering, Virgil fell backwards, his lower half taking a purple glow while he took flight again.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is not abandoned!! just forgotten about lol. i meant to take a short break but wound up forgetting this in the process
> 
> (also, this chapter was written months ago but for some reason i never posted it?? )

Virgil felt quite accomplished with himself as he crossed the tree line, to the barren open fields. Fields that were once lush and full of life. As he hovered mid air, Virgil could recall the many plants that flourished throughout the many acres that now lay empty. Completely naked, save for the dying grass and decaying stumps. 

He softly landed on the closest one, the remains of a large kapok tree. The rings were wide and told its age in large loops. Virgil frowned, kneeling on one knee, he pressed his palm to sliced wood-- only to hiss and yank his hand back. He shook his hand in the air to ease the pain. He bit his lip roughly,  _ What could of done this?  _ he wondered.  _ And why?  _

Another question for the humans, he noted.   
  
  


\---

  
  


Thick greasy fingers noisily pressed the buttons on the control panel. Sticky from glazed and artificially flavoured foods, it took an unnoticeable, extra amount of force to pull them back from the glowing buttons, leaving a thin web of the sappy sugar behind.

The man to whom the fingers belonged to, grabbed another two donut holes out of their box, plopping them both into his mouth. Only chewing once before holding a button down, leaning into the speaker and speaking through the mouthful, “How're you comin’ in your quadrant, Steve?”   
  
The employee in question looked at him through the monitor, (though they were only looking at a camera-- not actually seeing who was speaking to them.) “All done here.”   
  
He finished chewing and swallowed, grabbing his extra large styrofoam cup of coca-cola. He took a gulp, licking his lips but not riding the crumbs and sweat that stuck to his patchy beard and stash. He held the button down again, “How 'bout you, Jen?”   
  
Just as the last worker, she looked up at the camera with a smile and a thumbs up for a job well done, “Finito, good buddy.”   
  
He nodded to the man that sat beside him, pressing  the button for a third time he called into the  microphone, “How 'bout you, Roman?”   
  
There was no answer. He frowned, looking up from his phone to the monitor in front of him-- the camera only getting a shot of a group of trees. “Roman?”    
  
He slid his hand up the dial beside the mic, turning up the volume, “Roman?” he tried again, much louder this time, “Roman? Roman?” 

The man growled, slamming his fist on the control panel, “Roman!” he screeched, the noise echoing throughout the forest, and scaring a bunch of birds into flight.   
  
“Yeah, yeah.” the missing worker finally called out, pulling an earbud out, “What's the big deal?”   
  
“You finished marking those trees yet?” the speaker boomed through the trees.   
  
Roman rolled his eyes, shaking the can of red spray paint, “I'm getting to it.” he said before holding down the nozzle, painting a big, bright 'x’ across the trunk of a tree, “Don't have a cow. Sheesh!”   
  
The man let go of the button, flopping back in his swivel chair.

“This city kid comes up here for a summer job.” the other man, the one who sat beside him says, “And he doesn't take it seriously.”   
  
He nodded in agreement, sitting back up, back popping in the process, “Tell you one thing: that kid don't belong in the woods.”

  
  


\----

 

  
Roman bounced on the heels of his feet, shaking the can of paint to the beat of the music while he worked. It wasn't the most appealing job, painting trees so they were ready for the leveler; but it wasn't hard, and paid well enough-- which was all that mattered in actuality.

But he preferred painting trees more than he did hauling freshly cut lumber, which puts a strain on his back after a while. And then there was the off chance of getting a (pretty vicious) splinter, which wasn't pleasant at all, (it happened frequently, even with the heavy duty gloves he was required to wear. His arms bare-- because of the heat-- makes for easy target.)

Roman's hands were also blistering, the meat where his fingers met hand-- a blotchy red with swollen scabs, some about to burst and pop. (It disgusted Roman, and annoyed him more than his superiors did-- but again, the pay was worth it, at least.)

With his sore hands, Roman slashed another two lines on a tree trunk, before moving on to the next one, head bobbing to his music on the way. The next few marks went by on autopilot, his head in the clouds as he worked in his own pace. It wasn't until he sidestepped around a trunk, (a little freestyle to his music.) did he halt in his movement. 

He stood at the edge of a small clearing. A dark, eerie space that didn't look like it belonged in the rainforest. The air felt like it dropped in temperature as Roman stepped farther into the opening. For what stood in the middle of the otherwise barren area, was an ugly, black blob. A mess of branches protruded out of it at its top, no leaves in sight; just the flat expanse of dark bark, no ridges, or moss, or any sign of life like the others. Yet it still stood there, almost as if it was shunned by the rest of the forest-- or like it just sapped the life out of the plants that tried to grow near.

“Freaky.” Roman muttered to himself, stepping even closer to the mess that was trying to pass as a tree.

The atmosphere was undeniably unsettling, nagging at the back of his head, telling him that he didn't belong there. That no one was supposed to be there. Which was dumb. He decided. It was nonsense; because how could a  _ tree _ , a  _ plant  _ have any superiority over him? 

Even with that mindset, Roman still didn't want to be there. But, this was his quadrant. He steadily made his way closer to the heap of wood, spray can raised. He squared his shoulders, and with a press of the nozzle, and two swoops of his hand later, another bright crimson 'x’ was added to the forest.   
  


 

 


End file.
